Loneliness becomes you
by Swamy
Summary: Set right after ep. 2x02. There are people you are with that only make you more lonely than ever.


**Title: Loneliness becomes you**

Fandom: Merlin

Pairings: Arthur/Gwen, Merlin/Morgana, Arthur/Morgana.

Genre: Angst

Spoilers: Set right after ep. 2x02

**I.**

She is accustomed to the rumours reaching her – from the kitchens or the stables, or those of Arthur's latest conquests that race each other through the village – but she is not prepared to hear that the last conquest is Gwen, nor to see him turn to follow her servant with his eyes, while she returns his gaze, shyly and full of trepidation.

Morgana stays frozen, and feels invisible – or perhaps she would just like to be. She isn't sure.

But that girl walking away in her best dress, who she sometimes notices sneaking glances at herself in the reflections of the windows or in Morgana's mirror as she combs her hair, is her best friend, the one who listened patiently to her as she denied any interest in him – in Arthur, whose name carries too much meaning for her to confine him in the chains of a role.

For a moment she thinks that she would like to run – she, who has never been a coward – and she can't. Arthur is only a few steps away, and for a moment she feels as if she is his shadow cast on the pavement, or perhaps it's the other way round. Sometimes she thinks that, like a shadow, one of them will follow the other, in an eternal fate she does not know when became fixed.

**II.**

Gwen is different, and she makes him different too. She doesn't know him, and if he stays silent she doesn't know what he's thinking. With her, he can reinvent himself, be another man. She wasn't there the one time he cried over his mother's absence, doesn't stir his emotions, doesn't challenge him. With her, everything is simple, everything is new and he isn't a prince. He isn't Arthur.

Kissing her was sweet, and uncertain, and he wanted to do it again. He thinks that this is right, that he enjoys it immensely, that she makes him different, she makes him another man. With her, everything changes.

He is distracted as he returns to his chambers; for a moment he thinks perhaps he'll consider his good humour recovered and allow Merlin some rest. He raises his hand to push wide the already open door and smiles thinking of the face the boy will pull, but his hand stays frozen.

The flames in the fireplace are reflected in the silk of Morgana's dress, and for a second they seem to lick over her. She smiles at someone that Arthur can't see without taking another step.

"You are a good friend," she says gently and Merlin lowers his eyes, embarrassed. When he raises them once more and opens his mouth, he can't manage to make a sound before she lifts herself up on tiptoe to kiss him. He is surprised, but the surprise barely lasts and he closes his eyes, responding to the kiss, which lasts an _eternity_. Something tightens around Arthur's throat, and for an instant he thinks that there is an enemy attacking him, yet there is no one.

When they separate, Morgana smiles maliciously. "Arthur was wrong," she says, and somehow she renders him twice a witness of what has happened.

"About what?" Merlin's voice is made darker by desire and Arthur understands, and he despises him.

"It's not true you don't know how to do anything," she explains to him, a few words charged with double meaning, and laughs.

Arthurs shifts, and his back is against the wall. Merlin says something which he doesn't hear – which he doesn't want to hear – but in his head Morgana laughs, and his heart breaks in two. In this moment Arthur _knows_ that there are things that will never change.

**III.**

It's a stupid thing to do, and he certainly doesn't need to seek Gaius' advice or have a talking dragon scold him to know that it is, yet he still doesn't want to resist, doesn't want to do the right thing. He doesn't want to give up Morgana. He isn't so stupid not to have noticed Arthur's sudden attraction to Gwen, and even if he wasn't expecting it to happen he can only wish him the best; and she's sweet.

And the only inconvenience of thinking of Morgana and her kisses is the fact that he does nothing but crash into furniture or drop things and is deaf to Arthur's reproaches – which are more frequent now and brusquer. They say that love betters a person, but the prince must be the exception that proves the rule.

He doesn't know if Morgana makes him better, doesn't know if what has passed between them – just a couple of stolen kisses – will repeat itself, if he will ever have a chance to call it love, but he wants to try, because otherwise she is too beautiful not to become his greatest regret. Her scent torments him wherever he goes and if Arthur didn't always have something else for him to do every time they cross paths, perhaps he would embarrass himself in front of her more often even than he does in private just thinking of her.

To be near her has the same effect on him as an imminent danger, with the only difference that he doesn't ever want to be saved from her. He is only a servant, and she is the ward of the King, but if there were ever a thing Morgana didn't care for it would be social conventions; and he hopes to be able to kiss her again to better remember how it feels when he can't any more. And if, for a moment, he asks himself if she is kissing him or her own solitude – whose name, in truth, he does not wish to know – then Merlin, for her, will make himself be both.

**IV.**

Whenever she catches Morgana's gaze, Gwen feels guilty. Morgana always declared to have no interest in Arthur, but she knows her well enough that she can hear the truth behind her words, far too weak; yet she can't deny herself the pleasure of remembering his kisses and waiting for more.

He is kind, firm and honourable, and every girl sooner or later has dreamed of becoming a princess and being swept off her feet by a prince on a white horse. She's no different. If she's patient (she thinks), that day will come. One day she will be by Arthur's side, and it will be wonderful. It's a feeling that's always with her, a conviction that seems to be in the marrow of her bones. When she sees him she can tell herself that she knows a side of him no one else does. But sometimes, in brief moments, when she hears him quarrelling with Morgana – lately he can always find new reasons to – he's so childish, so stubborn and impulsive and instinctual that she's upset, confused, as if in that moment Arthur is unreachable. As if he's another man, a man she doesn't know at all. But when one day she points out his manners he only replies, "I'll never be like that with you", and even if her head tells her it's sweet, she feels her heart sinking and doesn't know why.

"Arthur's another man when he's with you," Merlin tells her, smiling, and she fears that it's true, that there are two Arthurs – one an impostor – and she doesn't want to know which one is with her.

**V.**

The flowers in the garden form a red sea, and her unfocussed gaze is immersed in it without seeing while she remains sitting on the green grass. She grabs at her arms with her hands and raises her head all of a sudden at the sound of his voice.

"What are you doing here alone?" he asks. "Where's Gwen?" And her lips curl involuntarily, full of sarcasm.

"Is it my safety we're talking about, or is this a subtle way of asking where Gwen is?"

Arthur is silent, because she isn't supposed to know what's between him and Gwen – because he himself doesn't know – but he's not surprised. He sits beside her and watches her melancholy profile while her blue eyes – they always become blue when she's sad or cold and he wants to know which reason it is in this moment – are lost.

"What's wrong?" he asks to know what's upsetting her; he asks waiting for her to confess her feelings for Merlin; he asks hoping she'll never tell him.

"Nothing," she replies after holding her breath. There are so many things to say, none of which makes sense and this is the only answer she can give him.

He doesn't move, but he drops it, staying where he's sitting. A long time passes before she speaks again, and the silence speaks of understanding. It speaks of belonging, and Arthur listens enchanted.

"I have the feeling that everything's about to end." He doesn't know what she means but the feeling reaches him – it's like a gust of wind against her face that she closes her eyes to accept. "As if this life is just an illusion that'll fade away soon." She's murmuring, "Sometimes I think I'm at the edge of a cliff and I'll fall off, never to find the bottom," and as she speaks Arthur gets the feeling that it could happen, that if he drops his gaze from her she'll disappear and never come back. His bones grow cold and something is throbbing in his head.

"What nonsense, right?" she asks, and a smile breaks over her face, and for a moment Arthur convinces himself that it's a foolish thought – because it must be, because he wants it to be and he's the Prince of Camelot and his wish means everything.

"I'll be near," he says, and Morgana looks to him, confused, for the first time since he joined her. "I'll always be near," he says again. "When it happens..." he explains. "When you fall I'll be near, and you can hold onto me."

She looks at him with wide, shining eyes, and maybe it's because of the light or perhaps his own hopes, but they seem green, and he remembers why it's always been his favourite colour.

She smiles, and for a moment hope is hers; and she has the form of a warm hand covering her own, open on the grass.

**Epilogue**

_He's having trouble breathing – with the instinct gained from many battles he would cover his wound with a hand, but reason tells him it's useless – before he falls silent before her. Morgana staggers but doesn't fall; she stays up and her face is petrified from the effort of not showing her pain._

"_You're stubborn as always," he'd like to tell her, but the little breath he has left must be used well. Not even reminding her that they're meant to be enemies, and so one isn't meant to take a stab in the back for the other, seems a good way to use their time, and as much as he's tempted to quarrel with her one last time, he fears he wouldn't be able to get the last word – he never has, to be honest._

_She smiles at him while a man – her man, he thinks, finding another reason to hate him – drops the blade that hit her and, confused (because while everyone thought they hated each other, they hated nothing but the distance between them), babbles his apologies._

"_It doesn't happen every day," she says quietly, "that a girl can save her prince."_

"_I have a hole in my chest, Morgana." And even if it never stained his clothes, it's been there standing out, gaping and painful, all these years they've spent apart. "I'd say I haven't much time left." He's forced to pause, because the hole he was talking about isn't healed by her presence. "And anyway, I'm King. Have been for a few years now."_

"_Details,"__ she says, shrugging. "Too proud to admit you've been saved by a girl?"_

"_No, because I haven't been," he says with a smile. For a moment he can smell her perfume, and the battlefield becomes a hall animate with lights and music and guests looking at them as if they're the future of a whole kingdom. "You did more, but I don't know why." He stands his ground to face her. Or perhaps to embrace her – if they had been better at knowing the difference between the two then maybe their lives would have been different. Maybe he wouldn't have to be waiting for death not to feel alone any more._

"_You've always been dense." Morgana tries to scold him, and look at him with that irony she used when they were both younger and equally stubborn, but she can't._

_He gazes at her gravely, and in that moment she knows everything is in place; and when she falls she clings onto his chest and never reaches the ground because he puts himself between her and the earth._

_Arthur wants to say, "I told you so", because he kept his promise, but instead he tells her, "I love you too", and hopes she hears him before she dies; or he'll have to tell her again in a moment, when they're together on the other side._

Fin.


End file.
